


call me when it rains

by faustyflakey (faust801)



Series: on dial [1]
Category: Mandrake Boys (Visual Novel)
Genre: (if you squint), Comfort Sex, Creampie, Cuddling & Snuggling, Deepthroating, Disgustingly Vanilla, Drunk Sex, Dry Humping, Huddling For Warmth, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Rimming, Size Kink, i dont know, i think lol, kinda ooc toma, leo touches toma's nape but all sexy lookin, may or may not be a comfort fic, nape FUCKING???????, theyre both touch starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 03:00:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30116136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faust801/pseuds/faustyflakey
Summary: “I see. Then, I’ll see you.”“… Thank you, please— “He stops himself.“… Please be careful.”The call ends, and a lingering silence takes over. It’s a conversation reminiscent of one exchanged by colleagues. Formalities and a strange stiffness.Yet again, there’s something intimate about it. Something… (warm.)(Leo didn’t know what he would say before he stopped himself.)...aka leotoma warming each other up while its raining
Relationships: Leo/Toma (Mandrake Boys)
Series: on dial [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2216160





	call me when it rains

**Author's Note:**

> cw // panic attacks , (maybe) mental breakdowns
> 
> [originally posted on privatter]
> 
> also also lmao,... i did an illust for this fic like,, in jan so jkashjks (shorturl.at/giGN3)
> 
> dw,, if ur not vibing w the ooc toma,, is g !! i have a couple of fic ideas i havent written yet where toma's more in his ~zone~
> 
> (i say as i talk to the wall)

The room’s cold. (It’s always cold.)

It’s irritating. How Leo can notice everything. He doesn’t like the frost biting his fingertips. The winter freezing his knuckles. How sickly pale his skin looks. (Maybe) turning blue, corpse-like.

(He needs warmth. Leo thinks.)

Sho isn’t here. He’s with his (ghost) friends, today. And Toma is… 

Toma…

No, he shouldn’t interfere. He can withstand thunder for a few minutes.

A hollow shell with a linger of something. Just something. It’s the way the rain drizzles and pours. Drip-dropping onto the glass. Hitting. Banging. It’s loud. Too loud.

The buzz of the fan, and the lightning punching into the ground. It shakes the earth’s core. Plates moving. Cracking. Bumping. Colliding. It’s crumbling beneath him.

(The touch of someone other than himself.)

Wooden planks splitting. Open nails of splinters. He doesn’t know where they are (where the pills are.) His body ache and limps. The air is too heavy to breathe in. Leak.

Oxygen leaks. A cough. How it bruises his throat. Dry mouth. (He doesn’t know where the water is, too.) The floor is nothing but a fabric from space, and he is standing on void itself.

Leo doesn’t know if he’s sober or not. The air reeks of bitter beer, yet his head doesn’t ache. Though, there’s a tilt in his vision and mind. Beer’s lingering taste is on the tip of his tongue.

It’s real, yet unreal at the same time. Warmth of someone other, he thinks again.

His cheeks are cold, but his heart. It pulsates, yet it hurts. Fire gnaws on his nails.

The bed’s warm (and cold.) Everything’s cold. The blanket covers him, but it only reaches until his ankles. Struggling. Stretching. 

He needs someone. Someone’s warmth. His coldness caressing their body and feeling their curves. It’s the underlying loneliness biting at him. A sense of being forgotten despite being so known.

He’s faded away, yet his shell remains. Warmth.

(He needs warmth.)

(His hands are stiff again.)

Leo grabs his phone and dials. (He notices the tremor in his hands, too. How sweaty they feel. How thunder also shakes the bones in his fingers.)

It rings long. Too long. He hates the silence, but he hates the noise, too. The anticipation of his beating heart. The thunder’s rumble and the banging rain. Loud. Soft. Loud. Silence. 

Maybe he should— 

“… Sir Leo?”

(There’s chatter in the background, and guilt tugs on his heart.)

“E-editor Toma,” Leo chokes out. He hates that stutter, and the hoarseness in his voice, too. No, he mustn’t make Toma worry that much. Leo clears his throat, “I— “

“—I was actually thinking of calling you,” Toma says. About a hundred assumptions pile in Leo’s mind. “Based on the sound of your voice, my theory is correct.”

(The same feeling of guilt creeps from before.)

“I’m sorry for bothering you.”

“… Don’t say things like that, sir,” Toma mumbles. A hint of sadness. To turn back time is an impossible feat. “You’re not bothering me. The meeting just ended. You released your book, so there’s no…”

“Editor?”

The line buzzes static at the end of his words. Light flashes. Thunder. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Ignore the cold sweat and your beating heart. Breathe. 

(Autopilot)

Ignore breath stuck in throat. Ignore signs of threats. Bile climbing up tongue. Lining lips. Hands shaking. Can’t stop shaking. Lights. Too bright. Rumble. Rumble. Left. Right. Up. Down.

Distraction. Toma. Breathe. Breathe. Warmth. He needs warmth. Don’t choke. Don’t choke. Just—

“Sorry, sir… the storm’s getting worse by the second.” 

(Somehow, the weight on his body lightens.)

“Don’t… don’t worry, it’s not your fault.”

“Do you want anything on the way? Maybe a cake from that patisserie place?”

“No, no. I just — I mean, no. I’m fine, thank you.”

Maybe he sounded a bit too desperate during that delivery.

“I see. Then, I’ll see you.”

“… Thank you, please— “

He stops himself.

“… Please be careful.”

The call ends, and a lingering silence takes over. It’s a conversation reminiscent of one exchanged by colleagues. Formalities and a strange stiffness.

Yet again, there’s something intimate about it. Something… (warm.)

(Leo didn’t know what he would say before he stopped himself.)

A knock at his door snaps Leo up. 

“Sir Leo, I’m here,” Toma says. His voice muffles against the thin walls. 

“Editor?” 

The door clicks open, and…

And…

Leo stares.

His heart beats first. 

“Sir Leo?”

Then, a squeeze in his chest, before finally—

“S-sir Leo!” Toma chokes out as he tries to grip on his umbrella.

Warmth. Leo notices. His beating heart and fragile figure. The smell of rain, coffee and a perfume that’s reminiscent of lavender oils. He wonders if he holds him too tight, he’ll notice the pulse and back away.

The thought passes him. He likes him. His scent and how comforting it is to hold his body. His waist, chest, neck, the flush on his ears. 

Comfort. (He likes it. Leo decides.) His breath’s ghosting on Toma’s neck as he indulges in his scent. Breathing in. Sinking.

Arms hugging back his figure…

Leo pulls back.

“S-sorry, sir, I was just…” Toma trails off. Gazes locking. A shudder licks up his spine, and the hairs on his arm stand up. Goosebumps caressing his skin. 

The atmosphere’s hotter than before.

(Leo’s breath dances on his lips. Beer. Somehow, he wants to taste him. That desperate look of his doesn’t match his height.)

“Toma,” Leo starts. 

(Toma doesn’t know if he’s expecting or fearing the thought of his lips against his.)

“Come in.”

Saying it like that makes him think of something else.

No, no. Formalities are a must.

Though, the thought of his hands…

(This is bad.)

The clutter catches Toma’s eyes first. But, before he could say something about it, Leo drags him to his room. (They don’t exchange chatter while he’s putting his umbrella down. A silent sign.)

It’s the amount of beer cans that concerns him. Again, Leo’s the first to act. He drags him to the bed, and…

(No, they don’t… do that. To Toma’s surprising dismay.)

Instead, Leo buries his face in Toma’s chest. Weight shifting on top of him as his hands wrap around his waist. Warmth. Leo breathes in Toma’s lavender oil scent and sighs. Safe. Maybe that’s the feeling.

Lately, Leo’s tight hugs don’t bother him that much. Almost as if he him to hold him more. (Real touch starved of him.) The week’s been a lot, especially with his other writers. 

And yet, Leo doesn’t bother him that much, now.

As Leo melts into his chest, a thought strikes Toma. They never specified why they both wanted to see each other during the call, huh? 

(They must be psychic.)

“Did you miss me?” Toma blurts out.

Leo says nothing but buries his face deeper in his chest. It’s still raining. Flashes of lightning sparking outside the windows. The rumble of thunder shaking the earth’s core.

His grip on his waist tightens.

“Not answering that question.”

Toma laughs. “Ah, did you take your meds today? Have you eaten, too? Don’t go around drinking with an empty stomach.”

“Couldn’t find it. Don’t know.”

“… Geez, wait here. I’ll go prep you a meal,” Toma struggles beneath Leo’s tight hug. “… And clean this place up.”

Leo’s hands find themselves on Toma’s waist as he’s cooking. Hot breath tracing his nape. (He finds this type of behavior in couples. Toma thinks.)

“Can I?”

Toma hums.

Leo sighs against Toma’s skin. The same shiver from before comes back as Leo traces his nape with his fingers. Soft. A faint flush creeping up his neck.

Toma’s breath hitches as his heart pounds against his chest. Thinning his lips, he covers his mouth. A sudden thirst running through him. A burst of heat arches his back. 

Shudder after shudder abusing his spine.

The storm seems endless. How many minutes has it been? 

His mind tries to shift the subject, yet Leo’s fingers keep teasing him. Brushing the soft hairs on his nape. Feeling its texture. Pressing against his hot skin ever so slightly.

Leaning deeper into his touch. Chest heaving as he rubs his body against his. Toma chokes out a whimper as Leo’s hand trails up and down his waist. Palm rubbing his nape.

(A want to dig his canines deep into his nape shoots up Leo’s spine.)

Sweat drips down Toma’s forehead. Heat pooling up in his groin and spreading so hotly. He wonders if he’s doing this on purpose. An ulterior motive.

Toma bites his lip as tears pool up in his eyes. The thought of cooking throwing itself out the window. Hips grinding against Leo’s clothed cock. Moaning at the hot friction. Leo rolling his hips deep, and Toma shuddering.

“Toma,” Leo whispers. Hot breath ghosting the shell of his ear. Toma shudders and moans. (It’s the first time they’ve dropped formalities.)

“… L-Leo,” Toma turn to Leo and his hot gaze meets his own. Flushing face, parting and drying lips. His breath gets stuck in his throat.

Hot tension and silence. Lightning and thunder only shocking them back to reality. The lights flashing to dark for a moment. Leo shrieks and flinches away, Toma frowning at his warmth’s linger.

“S-sorry,” Leo mumbles. A slight tremor shakes his words and figure. His personality doesn’t fit with his height. “I-I was wondering if you wanted to drink with me after we eat…”

“Two hours,” Toma says, and Leo looks at him. “After two hours, you’ll take your meds.”

Leo nods. “Is that a ‘yes?’” he says. His hands are still trembling. (Toma realizes he didn’t see him cry today.)

He shifts his gaze as warmth creeps up his face. Toma says nothing. His hands only hold Leo’s and guides them to his waist. Head leaning against his chest.

...

It’s still raining once they’re laying in Leo’s room. Beer cans scattering themselves on the floor as its scent layers the air. Thunder still rumbles.

It’s the comfortable static silence of the news channel. Yet, the tension still lays heavy. He hates how hot Leo’s gaze is. Burning through his figure. Tracing his moves with liquid heat. 

How Toma tilts his head back with each drink he takes. Staring at his bobbing Adam’s apple. The flush of his skin and the light shining his sweat. 

(Of course, Toma’s aware of his gaze.)

Spreading his legs in a casual, yet sultry matter. Hands laying too near on his crotch. Stretching and arching his back. 

(Toma looks at Leo with the same gaze he gives him.)

He likes the way he pushes his hair back. Toma decides. The furrow in his brows. A vulnerable, yet sharp look. Sizzling hot and freezing cold. How he has the perfect amount of veins on his hands. 

A writer and a pianist’s hands. There are ink blotches smearing themselves on his palms.

(It’ll rain about three days, says the weather forecast.)

“Ugh…” Leo hisses and Toma looks at him.

“What’s wrong?” Toma inches closer to him. Sitting on his lap.

“I don’t want to endure the rain,” Leo says. His voice is trembling. “I hate it. I don’t like the thunder, lightning. The sudden blackouts. It’s scary. I don’t like it. I don’t like it,” he chokes out a sob.

(Toma sees the quiver in Leo’s lips, and the want to close the distance grows stronger. Leo’s warmth lingers on his nape and waist.)

He wonders if it’s the alcohol making him think like this. His heart’s beating behind his eyes. Pulsing on his wrists, chest and throat. Each pump too loud.

“I called you here because I felt like I was about to throw up, and I wanted to hold you. You’re—you’re warm and my room’s cold. I feel like I’d just fade away, and the room would freeze my corpse. I remember my hands looking blue, and the room spinning...” Leo breathes.

“I hesitated to call you, because I felt like I’d bother you. I’m selfish, Toma. For relying on you too much, you — you don’t deserve me. You deserve some... some writer better. Who can take care of themselves and isn’t a worthless sack of—something. I feel hollow, and... I don’t know.”

(There’s warmth. Leo’s face is in Toma’s chest. There’s warmth. A campfire of his palm.)

“Tell me what you need.”

(Leo’s vision blurs, and his chest aches.)

“—This...” Leo chokes out a sob. Crying into his chest and sobbing out thank-you’s. “I just need something like this right now. Want your skin on mine, exchanging body heat. I need— “

Lightning strikes before thunder rumbles the earth. Lights flashing dark. Electricity cutting, and. And. (It’s dark. The room’s floor is nowhere. Somewhere. A void.)

“... Toma?”

(Leo never liked the bile crawling up his throat. The sudden thirst and how the room spins. Spins. Distorts. Vortex. Spiral.)

“Toma— “

(The rain is too loud.)

“—Focus on your breathing.”

Warmth soothes his back.

“I’ll find a light and your meds. Follow me,” Toma helps Leo up. Using his warmth as a compass. Tripping over the darkness. Leo’s tall figure stumbling over Toma’s.

“You can get through this.”

(Toma finds his reflection in Leo’s eyes. He can’t see his lips, but his breath is tingling over his. Darkness engulfs their distance, yet a desire to close it lingers.)

...

The candle light flickers, and its wax drips. It’s still raining once they’ve found it. They’re in a similar position from before. Leo’s face in Toma’s chest. Breathing in lavender oil. Grip too tight. Feeling his warm, silky skin.

(Yet again, that’s how Toma likes it.)

It’s a slow, yet noticeable process (how alcohol kicks in.) Toma notices once the room boils. His skin hotter than before, and the friction in between his thighs is... bothersome.

_“Isn’t this position common in lovers?”_ Toma thinks to himself, again. A similar thought from before. Though, the things they all do are common in lovers, and not in editors and writers. 

Their relationship is the fine line between friends and lovers. No—co-workers and…

(It’s complicated. The alcohol in his system is making it worse, too.)

Despite the warmth, the room’s winter bites Leo’s knuckles. A tremor shivering his body. He can see his breath, though he doesn’t know if it’s really there. 

It’s snowing in the middle of April. And there’s a cold sweat dripping down his cheek. Chest heaving as a frost-biting grip clutches Leo’s heart.

In between the gaps of life and death. Warmth and winter. The cold burns his toes and fingers.

(Toma looks down once winter seethes his skin.)

“Leo?”

(He doesn’t notice furrow in his brows and the blue tinting his skin and lips. The weight on his eyes is heavier.)

“Need something?” Toma presses his palm against his forehead. 

“Warmth,” Leo mumbles. “Need this,” he feels Toma’s curves. Large hands mapping out his body. “It’s too cold,” he sobs. “Need you,” he buries his face in the crook of Toma’s neck.

“… Take off your clothes.”

Leo looks at him, and the weight of Toma’s words knocks him out (metaphorically.)

“… Toma… do you— “

“—Just do it,” Toma huffs and unbuttons off his vest. Leaving Leo’s lap. At least a part of his sober self remains. He won’t say he likes the way Leo gawks at him.

“Here, I’ll help you,” he sighs and unzips Leo’s pants and…

(Has the alcohol settled in?)

“Ah,” Leo stares at him as a smile tugs at his lips.

(Why the hell did he reach there first?!)

“L-leave your boxers on, then lie down,” Toma retracts his hand and continues stripping (hesitation in between actions included.)

Leo’s shivering once he’s bare-chested, lying down on the bed as Toma pulls the thin blanket over them. 

“Editor?” Leo whispers. Trembling with winter as the rain muffles itself out of their cocoon. His voice is closer than it should be. His and Toma’s breaths ringing in each other’s ears. Caressing their skins with warm air.

“We dropped the formalities, didn’t we?” Toma mumbles and wraps his arms around Leo. “We aren’t working today.”

Leo hums against Toma’s skin, “What do you want me to call you?” he slurs and buries his face into the crook of Toma’s neck. Lips brushing against Toma’s flush. Breathing in deeper of his shampoo.

Hands holding his waist. As if it’s his instinct.

(Toma just huffs.)

Silence, but the rain. 

Shivers growing softer as warmth soothes Leo’s skin. Legs tangling as he pulls Toma closer. Lengths just inches away.

“You’re warm,” Leo whispers.

“… Yeah.”

(Come to think of it, that was the first time he comforted Leo with full-hearted words. Is it the power of alcohol or the fact that they’re not working?)

Leo lets out a sigh. One of content. They lay there. Comforting silence. Leo’s hands mapping his skin again. Toma indulging in the goosebumps trailing his flesh as his cold palms caress his spine.

Tracing down to the back of his thighs, Toma holds back a moan as he arches his back.

(A similar touch from before. It’s déjà vu, isn’t it?)

His hands feel his waist, then hips. Teasing him by trailing his palms against their shape. Toma hates how he’s aware of his own erection. 

Straining against his cotton boxers as pre-cum drools from his head. He prays his cock doesn’t come close to touching Leo’s own.

“L-Leo?”

“Yeah?” Leo slurs. Drowsiness dripping from his voice. 

(This is bad.)

“I-I think we should— “

Leo blinks down at him. Once, twice. Half-lidded eyes shooting wide as realization clears his mind. Flinching away. “Toma, I’m so sorry,” he shifts away as far as he could.

“Huh? N-no, wait, it’s okay,” Toma reaches out to him. “It’s a natural reaction. I was just overwhelmed by the— “

“—I know, Toma. I’m—I’m sorry, it’s the first time I’ve felt like this to someone before, and I was too excited. I thought I was getting better at reading people, understanding emotion, and—and I thought you’d like it because you didn’t reject me while I was touching you in the kitchen—and—“

“—Wait, pause for a second,” Toma blurts out. “Does that mean that reaction… isn’t just physical…? You—you want me?”

“… I’m sorry. Just feeling your warmth brings me so much safety and being with you calms me down. It feels good, so I thought you must feel good too, so— “

The words in his head erase themselves as the soft press of Toma’s lips closes the distance. Pulling him close until their chests meet again. The beat of their hearts pounding against each other. Echoing.

“Toma…” Leo mumbles as his mouth gapes. “It’s okay. I don’t want your pity.”

“Ugh, you really are troublesome…”

“Huh?”

“I wouldn’t visit someone regularly just to cook, clean, and care for them. Didn’t you realize I was feeling it too, earlier this afternoon?” Toma pinches Leo’s cheek. “You’re so dense! Aren’t we already acting like a married couple at this point?”

“… Does that mean?” Leo’s eyes shine and Toma presses their foreheads together.

“What do you think, my Leo?” Toma grins as he wraps his arms around Leo’s shoulders. “Isn’t this position promiscuous already?”

“… T-Toma…”

(Oh, the power of alcohol.)

“You weren’t even hiding your gaze earlier, too,” Toma pushes Leo down as he straddles his waist. 

“You’ve got me all pent up, so,” he grinds his hips against Leo’s cock. Heat pooling up in his groin as he relishes in the friction. “Please take responsibility.”

(Leo swears his face, skin and body have never felt so hot.)

Toma’s mouth meets his, tongue dragging over Leo’s lips before turning into a dry suck. The taste of cheap beer tingling on both the tips of their tongues. 

Leo’s hands crawl up Toma’s waist again, feeling his curves with his hands. Toma shuddering at the way delicious goosebumps trace his skin. 

Leo’s palms trail down, squeezing his ass and indulges in the way Toma gasps. He kneads it. Firm, yet soft, he lets his skin sink in between the gaps of his fingers. 

Heat pierces Toma’s veins and spreads throughout his skin. Arching his back as the heat pooling up in his groin boils. Bouncing on Leo’s clothed cock, he moans. 

Feeling his fat dick’s shape straining against the thin cloth. Pre-cum dripping as Leo licks into his mouth. Hands roaming all over Toma’s body, Leo ruts his cock against Toma’s ass.

Leo kisses away from his mouth. Trailing down to his jaw, Toma moans and another shiver wrecks his spine. 

Leo pushing him down, Toma bends his head back. Leo’s teeth nipping his pulse point before pulling away. Toma whimpering at the loss of warmth. Nerves screaming for more as anticipation’s heat sets them on fire.

Wrapping his arms around Leo’s shoulders, he flips them with a buck of his hips. Sinking down to Leo’s cock, he slides his boxers down. Drooling as his thick length presses against his cheek.

Face heating, he runs his hands up Leo’s thighs as he hears him gasp. Toma wets his lips and takes his cock in his hand. Fingers barely touching as he pumps his length. Teasing his fat head’s slit with a thumb.

Rubbing against it and teasing him before sinking his mouth down onto his cock. Working one of his hand on his shaft as he hollows his cheeks around his large dick.

He hums, Leo’s hand finding its way in his hair. Patting him and gripping his locks ever so slightly. Toma moaning against his dick as he indulges in the dull pain. He pulls away, pressing wet kisses on his thick shaft.

Dragging his hand up and down his cock, his eyes smile at the way Leo’s looking at him. (Gaze hot. Piercing through him and caressing his body with a heat so good.)

“Do you like it when I jerk you off, sir?” 

“… D-don’t bring up formalities in a time like this…” Leo chokes out. Hand pulling away Toma’s head before pushing him down on his cock. Leo shuddering as Toma’s throat closes in on his length.

Hot walls clenching around his tight base, he fucks his mouth. Thrusting his cock deeper in his throat. Toma moaning with each move he makes. 

Eyes rolling back, tears well up as Leo’s fat head rubs against his palate. Toma arches his back and dull pain seethes through his veins. Sparks lighting up his nerves.

Burning up his skin with a heat licking up his body. Toma’s mind buzzes as his jaw aches, drool dripping down his chin. The taste of pre-cum lingering on the tip of his tongue. 

Hand pressing his head down, Toma moans as his nose hits Leo’s pubes. Swallowing around his length. Leo rolls his hips, moaning as he thrusts his cockhead deeper into Toma’s hot, wet mouth. 

Nails digging into his scalp as he reels in Toma’s tight heat. Leo pulls him away, Toma coughing as his throat sores of heat. Lips plump, red and slick with spit, his chest heaves.

“S-sorry, did I push you too hard?”

“… No,” Toma breathes. “I actually like it when you do that.”

(Oh, my god.)

Leo pushes him down, and Toma spreads his legs. Hands trailing down, he spreads his ass cheeks apart. Revealing his tight pink hole.

“… Sir, please don’t delay us any further,” Toma breathes.

“Where did you learn that kind of language?” Leo huffs as he trails down. He gives Toma a few licks of his tongue, rough and wet. Pressing hot kisses against his hole and indulging in the small whimpers Toma makes.

Hands spreading Toma’s ass cheeks further, Leo delves his tongue deeper into him. Lapping against his tight, wet walls. Toma’s hole clenching around Leo’s hot muscle as he licks inside of him.

Licking in him as far as he could reach until drool runs down his chin. Thrusting his hot muscle in and out of his sensitive walls. Bringing a spark in Toma’s veins with each thrust he makes.

Pleasure wrecking his spine and body as he arches his back. Rocking his hips against his tongue. Toma’s moans and gasps boiling Leo’s want to wreck him even further.

Toma’s breath hitching as a whimper punches through his throat. Trailing off into a groan as Leo pushes a finger beside his tongue. Saliva slicking his hole past where his tongue could reach.

“Yeah, you’re doing so good,” Leo leans back and watches Toma writhe beneath him. Slicked hair now falling onto his eyes (he doesn’t know which hairstyle he prefers.) 

Leo gives his finger more room to work, grabbing Toma’s hip as he pulls him up. Thrusting his body deep into his digit. Toma rocking his body against his finger before whimpering as Leo pulls away.

“L-Leo— “

“—Do you have any…?” Leo trails off and averts his gaze.

(Toma looks at him before clicking the pieces together.)

(He shuffles to his pants and brings up a small packet.)

“We can do it raw,” Toma whispers into Leo’s ear as he hands him the packet. “I’ve been waiting for this moment.”

Leo shudders at his words as Toma lays back down on the bed. Leo rips the packet open, and its cool thick liquid drips down on Toma’s hole. 

Toma’s skin prickling as goosebumps trail his arms. Leo watching the liquid ooze down Toma’s crack and him writhing against its cool.

Leo collects the lube with his fingers, slicking his two digits. Toma gasps before moaning as Leo presses his fingers past the tight ring of muscle.

He whines, thrusting his hips back against the digits. Rolling his hips up as his tight walls clench around his fingers. 

Leo’s mouth waters, watching Toma rut against his moves. Digits feeling so hot—wet, tight. He scissors his hole open. Thrusting his digits up and down. Each thrust melting Toma’s veins.

Sizzling his skin and pooling up a liquid heat in his mind. Buzzing boiling—heat. It’s heat and the heat that they both long for.

“Leo—Leo… please—I want you in me… I need you,” Toma whimpers as he bounces up and down his fingers. Whining, he wraps his arms around Leo’s shoulders. Tears welling up in his eyes as he writhes.

“Shh, it’s all right, yeah… that’s good,” Leo hushes him. (If they were in normal circumstances, it would be in reverse.)

(Yet again, that makes it hotter.)

Leo pulls his fingers away, and Toma whines at the emptiness. Hole gaping and dripping with lube. Slicking with spit and spreading so good.

“Come on, hurry,” Toma whimpers as he spreads his ass cheeks wider. “I can’t wait any longer.”

(There’s breaking glass in Leo’s mind as he slings one of Toma’s legs over his shoulder.)

(Truly, the power of alcohol.)

“Toma… is this even your first time?” Leo breathes before thrusting his cock deep into Toma’s hole. Body shuddering as his tight walls clench around him. Heat engulfing his length, and Toma feeling so full.

Warmth caressing every part of his skin. Thick cock hitting deep in his groin and bulging his stomach. Eyes blown wide as Leo pulls away, punching the air out of Toma once he rams back in.

“I’m just happy to see you,” Toma breathes.

Shuddering, he claws his nails on his back. Digging into Leo’s skin as he grasps on him for dear life. Leo’s hips snap back and forth, the sound of skin echoing throughout the room. 

Ragged breaths filling the air. Toma’s breath stuttering as he blinks his tears away. (It’s hot. The room’s so hot.)

Leo trails down and sucks on one of Toma’s nipples. Lapping his tongue against his bud, pinching and teasing him with his mouth. Toma arching his back as he ruts his hips against his cock.

Base feeling so tight, pre-cum drips from his head. Tongue teasing his nipples and piercing through his nerves. Leo’s teeth sinking down into Toma’s flesh. Marking him. (His. His. His.)

Dull pain seething through his skin as liquid heat melts his body, coating with a pleasure so good. So hot. Cock driving into him so damn deep, Toma’s grateful it’s the weekend. 

He knows he’ll be sore for days, remembering the shape of Leo’s cock. How wide his girth is and how deep it settles in his ass. (And he’ll love every second.)

The thought electrifies itself in his bloodstream. Zapping his skin with hot, buzzing pleasure. The creak of the bed frame squeaking in his ears as Leo fucks him hard.

Thrill and fear buzzes in his mind. Hard thrusts bouncing his body up and down against the mattress. Punching the air out of him and leaving him breathless. 

Trying to catch air only to slip out of his reach with the buzz of pleasure.

“Oh, fuck, Leo—Leo,” Toma chokes out as Leo trails his hand to his cock. Pumping his length with his large hands, jerking him off with hard strokes.

Leo pounding into him as he breaks Toma open. Toma shuddering as he melts messily. Fucking the whimpers out of him as Toma grinds against Leo. Heart pulsing in his neck.

“Toma—I’m—I— “

“—Come in me, come in me. Fill me with your cum—breed me—god, oh fuck,” Toma rolls back his eyes as hot seed fills his hole. Cum spurting onto his stomach, his body pulsates. Hands twitching as pleasure drowns his body.

Leaving his body limping as his nerves shake. Clawing on Leo’s back as he arches his back. Aftershock after aftershock.

Leo fucking his over sensitive walls before pulling away. Toma’s legs shake as Leo’s weight falls onto him. Closing the distance with a short, sweet kiss.

“Oh, my god,” Toma breathes.

“… Please take care of me, editor,” Leo smiles and Toma groans.

“Are you warm, at least?”

“… Yeah,” Leo whispers against his skin. “Very.”

(Leo doesn’t realize the rain has stopped.)

(Maybe he’ll like the rain more after today.)

…

“Novelist! My novelist! I’m back from my ghost friends! He brought you—agh!” Sho exclaims as he covers his eyes. (Oh, poor, innocent soul.)

“… L-Leo, don’t squeeze me too tight suddenly,” Toma struggles beneath his grip. “Do you need warmth again? The room’s suddenly cold.”

“N-no thank you…!”

**Author's Note:**

> (looks at reflection) ty for the time of day,, leotoma nation
> 
> also also scream at me on twt (@frosfaustflakes) and maybeeeee add me on mand boys?? teehee (Ulipse)


End file.
